


a slice of carrot cake

by ciaconnaa



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Conversational Fic, F/M, Humor, Slice of Life, dialogue only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 09:13:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8744101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciaconnaa/pseuds/ciaconnaa
Summary: Nick and Judy are given an undercover assignment of terribly cliché  proportions: pose as a married couple. Making everyone think they're in love? Pfft, that'll be easy; it's the backstory that needs some work.
So naturally, the two of them grab coffee on a brisk autumn afternoon and talk it out.





	

“Carrots, this is the best case we’ve ever had.”

“It’s certainly….interesting.”

“You bet your fuzzy wuzzy little tail it is. Probably the best one we will ever have too. And while I still think that posing as brother and sister would have really stretched and expanded my skills as an actor, I can accept this. I can see why Bogo was afraid for me to dip my toes into my conman resume.”

“Yeah. _That’s_ the reason.”

“Anyway. We need a super tight backstory. Down to the nitty-gritty. I’m talking details on the Thanksgiving disaster of ’04, nitty-gritty.”

“What happened in Thanksgiving of ’04?”

“Penny burned a casserole. And a pie. And half the kitchen.”

“Only half?”

“Okay, all of it.”

“Yikes. Who’s Penny?”

“My sister.”

“You have a sister?”

“I have two.”

“Really?”

“No. You’re going to need to know this stuff if you’re going to be my wife.”

“To some respect, I guess. But it’s not like you’re going to learn all my siblings’ names.”

“Jake, Amy, Terry, Gina, Charles, Raymond, Rosa—“

“Okay, okay, first of all, those are the characters from _Zootopia Nine Nine_. And second of all, I don’t have a sister named Rosa.”

“But I was right about the others.”

“You got _lucky_ about the others.”

“Wrong. I’m up to 150 of them. I just separate them into casts of television shows when I can to help me remember.”

“That’s…seriously? How many other shows have you come up with?”

“If you count only credited main cast members, four. Though it would be five if you had a brother named Ronald.”

“Sorry The Hopps’ family can’t round out the cast of _Barks and Recreation_.”

“I’ll forgive you, considering you _do_ round out the cast of _It’s Always Sunny in Tundratown."_

“I think we’ve strayed off topic just a smidge.”

“You’re right. We really need to talk about kids. Now I know that being the little adorable bunny that you are, you probably want at least like, what? 20 children?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“So when people ask, we say that I talked you down to a reasonable four because it’s best for city living.”

“Four? That’s still a lot.”

“Says the bunny with 250 siblings.”

“No, I mean, it seems like a lot for _you_.”

“What do you mean?”

“You seem like the type of mammal who couldn’t handle more than like, two kids. You’d have one, then have _another_ to keep the _first_ one company when you wanted to take a nap or write the next great Zootopian Novel.”

“Because I _totally_ wrote the first one.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Look, I love kids. Just ask Finnick, he’ll tell you.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.”

“Plus Little Holly, Heather, Olive and Sage will vouch for me too.”

“Those are the names you’re going with?”

“What? You don’t like them? They’re cute.”

“They’re fine, I guess, but the whole plant theme is kinda weird. And that’s coming from a farmer’s daughter.”

“Too cliché? If you don’t like them, speak up. They’re your children too.”

“I think I can live with whatever _pretend_ names you give our _pretend_ children that will exist for all of three days, Nick. Holly, Heather, Olive, and Sage it is. Let me write that down.”

"You can't remember your own kids names? You have to write them down. _Carrots_."

"Nick."

“Ha, aw, come on! You know, you’re allowed to have fun with this. Because once we get done with the story-planning stuff, we have to do _cop stuff_ and I for one am not looking forward to getting stabbed within an inch of my life.”

“I don’t think cutting yourself with a bread knife in the break room while you were eating Francine's restaurant leftovers constitutes as being stabbed within an inch of your life. Plus, I hardly doubt our appearance at a couple’s country retreat will put you in such danger.”

“Carrots! They got all sorts of sharp stabby things to stab me with out in the country. We’re talking axes, we’re talking hoes, we’re talking arrders—“

“Augers.”

“—rakes, shears, shovels.”

“I don’t think anyone can stab you with an auger. Or a shovel.”

“No, but they could use them to bury me in some family’s garden. Do we have one?”

“A shovel?”

“No, a garden. Does Nick and Judy: The Married Edition™ have a garden?”

“No garden, just hanging plants and box gardens on the windows. Do you think that’s relevant?”

“They’ll ask what you do, they’ll ask what I do. We can’t say cop so chances are you’ll default to something to do with farming, so yeah, it might lead to that.”

“Good point. Maybe we should decide on more general, concrete details that will make improvising the small stuff hard to mess up. I'll write them down.”

“Okay, let's see: if you could do anything in the world besides be a cop, what would you be?”

"I always wanted to be a cop.”

“I _know._ But like I said: we can have some fun. You can pick anything.”

“Anything?”

“Absolutely!”

“Singer.”

“Except _that_.”

“Nick!”

“Sweetheart, you’re a terrible singer. I would have prefaced that with an _I’m sorry_ , but I don’t want there to be any confusion on how absolutely tone deaf you are.”

“Hey! I am not that bad!”

“No, you _shouldn’t_ be that bad, considering how damn big those ears of yours are. Nor should you be unaware of how bad you are. But you are. And we don’t need anyone asking you to sing a few notes and discovering that everything we are is a sham.”

“ _Fine._ You pick, then.”

“Florist.”

“Ooh, what a twist. Tell me, how is that stretching the imagination, exactly?”

“Well we can’t say doctor, you don’t know anything medical. And what if someone chokes on a piece of cake? You don’t know the Heimlich.”

“How do you know there’s going to be cake?”

“We can’t say writer, you have no proof of publishing. Plus I’ve seen your reports. You’re no J.K Howling.”

“They’re police reports, not short stories. They aren’t supposed to include _flavorful details,_ as you so call them.”

“Hey, all I’m saying is that mine are more interesting to read.”

“Bogo used the word deplorable.”

“Well, Bogo isn’t fun.”

“And apparently Judy the florist isn’t either. If I’m a florist, then you have to be something equally… mundane.”

“Try me.”

“Barista.”

“Again?”

“What do you mean again? You’ve been a barista before?”

“For 5 years.”

“Wait, really?

“No. If you’re gonna be my wife, you gotta know this stuff, Carrots.”

“Nick”

“Yeah?”

“I want a divorce.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. We can work this out. What if I buy you another cake pop?”

“Our marriage can’t be bought with cake pops.”

“Can it be bought with blueberry muffins?”

“Oh, look at that! Marriage is back on.”

“Probably should get one for Holly, too.”

“And Heather.”

“And Olive.”

“Can’t forget Sage.”

“Don’t be silly—Sage would rather have a slice of carrot cake. You know rabbits and their carrots.”

“Yeah, wait—rabbit?”

“Judy, if you can’t tell which of our adopted kids are the rabbits and which are the foxes, _I’m_ going to be the one to divorce _you_.”

“This is the worst case we’ve ever had.”

“Aw come on; you know you love me.”

“Do I?”

“The correct phrase is _I do.”_

“Yeah. I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> The whole nine yards can get depressing...I needed some fun. So I wrote this! I don't normally do dialogue fics, but when I went back to put in descriptions, I thought it took some of the snappy fun out of it, so I just kept it dialogue. Even though it's a little uncommon, I hope you guys like it!


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